


On A Thursday in April

by fightforyourwrite



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Babysitting, Beaches, Boats and Ships, Day At The Beach, Dogs, F/M, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Mike Has a Dog, Sailing, Vancouver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 04:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightforyourwrite/pseuds/fightforyourwrite
Summary: Historia Reiss is nine years old, neurotic, hates the violin, hates feeling small, and doesn't like Mondays and Wednesdays.She does, however, like Thursdays because on Thursdays, she gets to spend three hours being babysat by her neighbour, Nanaba.





	On A Thursday in April

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of a sequel to my fic [Work From Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11238102).
> 
> You don't necessarily need to read it to understand this, it's just set in the same universe. Work From Home was kinda me testing the waters for this concept, On a Thursday in April is me fleshing it out into an actual story. 
> 
> Work From Home is set in the same universe where Nanaba is a pianist who babysits her 9-year-old neighbour Historia. So it's kind of a sequel, I just don't see the need to link it all together into a series.

I always have to be somewhere after school on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays.

On Mondays and Wednesdays, my mom picks me up from school and she takes me to my violin lessons. And on Thursdays, my mom has to stay at work for a little longer, so I have to stay with my babysitter.

I don’t like Mondays and Wednesdays because I don’t like violin, but my dad makes me play it because he thinks it’s good for me.

I don’t like my lessons either because the teacher has bad breath and yells at me when my tempo is off. Holding the bow hurts my hand and I hate the smell of rosin.

I want to play the piano instead. You get to sit down instead of standing up and it’s less stinky. But my mom and dad don’t like the instrument. They think it’s too much of a hassle.

Thursdays are a bit better than Mondays and Wednesdays because I don’t have violin lessons on Thursdays.

Instead of my mom picking me up from school, it’s my neighbour Nanaba. She babysits me for three hours from 3 to 6 and then my mom comes over and picks me up.

Nanaba is very nice. Nanaba lives on the third floor of the apartment building, me and my mom live on the fourth. Her place is smaller than me and Mom’s.

There’s only one bedroom in hers, ours has two. There’s not a lot of room in the kitchen and Nanaba has papers everywhere.

Nanaba lives alone. She doesn’t have a husband or a wife. Neither does my mom, but at least my mom had my dad for a while.

My mom doesn’t have him any more. They never married, but they still had me.

My dad told me that he couldn’t marry my mom because he was married to someone else. Because of that, I have a lot of brothers and sisters who my dad had with the woman he did marry.

I don’t live with my brothers and sisters, but I see them on Saturdays and Sundays. They say that I can’t live with them all the time because they have a different mom than me. Their mom lives with our dad in my dad’s house.

My mom has to live with me in the city.

I remember the first time Nanaba babysat me. She made me grilled cheese in her apartment and spent the rest of the time showing me all the songs she could play on her piano. She taught me a few things too. Just some scales and which notes are which.

She really likes this guy named Claude Debussy. She says he’s famous, but I’ve never heard him on the radio.

Debussy can’t be that famous if I’ve never heard him playing on the radio.

Playing piano is Nanaba’s job. She says that she gets paid to play in front of people sometimes, so she spends a lot of her time practicing piano and writing music and listening to it too.

Sometimes, she goes to places downtown and plays while people eat their dinner. She also says that she plays for weddings and even birthdays.

Maybe I can have her play for mine.

On a Thursday in April, school ends and I go outside to meet Nanaba. She’s waiting near the playground, standing in a group of parents even though she isn’t one herself.

I run to her and she says hello to me.

Sometimes I wonder if people think that me and Nanaba are related. We have the same blond hair and blue eyes. But her hair is cut shorter than mine and she’s way taller than me.

Nanaba doesn’t smile a lot. She always keeps her lips in a straight line. She’s a very focused person, like when she’s playing the piano.

But I have seen her smiling before. I make her laugh sometimes, though I’m not sure how I do.

I don’t know what we’re going to do this afternoon. I do hope that we spend it inside her apartment again. I want to play on her piano.

There’s a piano at school inside the music room. It’s old and brown and it’s one of the pianos you put against the wall.

Nanaba’s is different. Hers is black and it’s one that needs to be plugged into the wall to work. She told me that she’s saving up to get a bigger one, one that’s like a grand piano but smaller. It’s supposed to be better than the one she has now.

I’ve never played the piano at school, but I have played the one in Nanaba’s apartment. She’s taught me a few things and I think I’m better at playing piano than I am at playing violin.

Nanaba takes my backpack for me and we start to walk back home. But instead of taking me down our usual path, she takes me towards the street where a bunch of cars are parked.

I see that she’s taking me to the car that I know is hers.

“What are you doing? Do you need to go somewhere?”

“It’s a nice day, I thought I’d get you some fresh air,” Nanaba says. “I asked your mom and she said that it’s okay if I take you out.”

I grumble at her. “There’s air inside. How is it less fresh than the air outside?”

“We could head back to the building if you really want to,” Nanaba tells me. “But I think that fresh air would be good for you.”

I think I can understand why she would want to take me out. We studied the weather in class. We counted how many days in April it had rained.

Fourteen days. That’s two weeks, and two weeks is a lot of days.

Today broke that streak of rain. Today is the first day in fourteen days where the sun could be seen in the sky. It was nice to actually head outside for recess instead of waiting indoors and reading books.

When I think of that, I grumble at Nanaba again. She may be right.

“Fine. Let’s go then,” I say. I walk up to her car. “Where do you want to take me?”

* * *

Nanaba’s car is different from Mom and Dad’s. Mom’s car is bigger. It’s newer. The windows open when I flip a switch.

Dad’s car is the same. But he doesn’t really drive it. He pays someone to drive his car and sometimes he rides in the back next to me.

I know Nanaba’s car is older because to open the windows, I have to turn a lever in a circle motion until it moves down.

I thought Nanaba would let me sit in the front seat, but she doesn’t. She tells me I’m too small and that it wouldn’t be safe.

It’s stupid. Mom let’s me sit in the front seat sometimes. She thinks it’s fine.

Nanaba is lucky that she’s tall. She can sit in the front seat no matter what.

Nanaba drives from the school and through the city. We pass through the neighbourhood of houses and apartment buildings. I don’t know where exactly she’s taking me. She said it would be somewhere near the water.

I roll down the window. It’s cold, but my coat and hat keeps me warm enough. I try to sit up as tall as possible and lean my elbows against the bottom of the window. I try to stick my head out like a dog, but I’m still too small.

At least from the back, I can still look out at the sky. There are clouds in the sky that don’t seem like they’re really there unless I look very hard.

Trees move by the big blue, so do wires on telephone poles and street lamps and taller buildings. We drive over some train tracks and I feel bumping underneath the car as the crossing sign passes above.

I like looking at the sky. It’s so blue, like my eyes and Nanaba’s eyes. I always like to notice how large the sky is. It makes everything else seem so small, no matter how big it is to me.

Am I really that small when the sky is so big? Is everyone else that big when the sky is even bigger?

“Are you okay back there?” I hear Nanaba asking me.

I turn and see her. She’s focusing on driving. Her hand is constantly touching that lever thing under the radio.

I nod even though she’s not looking at me and looking at the road instead.

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t do anything dangerous, okay?” Nanaba says.

I nod again. “I won’t.”

We stop at a sign and Nanaba turns on the radio. “Do you want to listen to something?”

“It’s not more music written by dead guys, is it?” I ask.

She really likes music by people who aren’t alive anymore. Debussy, Elgar, Ravel… people like that.

I don’t like their music. There are no lyrics. Music can be great if it has lyrics to go along with it.

“Don’t worry, I have music made by people who are still alive,” Nanaba says. She searches in the glove box for a disk and puts it into the radio. “You know Simon & Garfunkel?”

“Who?”

Nanaba turns a knob that makes the music louder. “Well… you’ll know them now.”

I hear the strumming of a guitar plays out of the car’s speaker. “They’re both alive, right?”

“They are, they just broke up,” Nanaba explains. “They were pretty big before you were born, before I was born, even.”

“That’s cool.”

I look back out the window again. I see the route that we’re taking and think that we might be headed to the beach.

My grandma and grandpa used to take me to the beach when I was little. My mom never wanted to come with us. I can’t remember why.

I liked being there a lot. In the summer, I’d swim in the water. I’m pretty good at swimming. My grandma helped teach me how.

When I was 7, I spent the summer with my dad. I asked my older sister Frieda if dad and the rest of us could go to the beach one day. She told me that dad was too busy working to take us, but he could get a servant of his to do so.

I told Frieda that it wouldn’t be the same as dad taking us and that she should just forget it.

Nanaba does end up taking me to the beach. It’s not as crowded in spring as it is in the summer. I think I like it better that way.

I still need to wear my coat and I think it’s too cold for me to swim, but that’s okay. I can still do other things.

I have my backpack. Maybe I could fill it with shells and take them home to put them in my room.

Nanaba parks her car in the parking lot and gets out of the front. Then she lets me out of the back seat. I try to hold my backpack for myself, but she takes before I can touch it and slings it over her back.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a pair of sunglasses. They’re big and fancy-looking. My older sister Frieda and older brother Urklyn have similar pairs.

Nanaba’s humming one of the songs we listened to in the car.

Simon & Garfunkel are pretty good. I like them, but I think Nanaba likes them more.

The beach is nice during this time of year. It’s colder and there’s barely anyone swimming at it, but it’s nice.

I walk ahead of Nanaba to the shore. She calls at me to not go too far and that she’ll be close behind.

It feels weird being at the beach in my school uniform. My teachers get mad when we come in with dirt on our skirts or shoes. I step on the beach’s sand and wonder how much trouble I’ll get into for coming into school with sandy socks.

I look up from my shoes and look at the water. I can see boats out there, sailing across the sea. Some are large and carry those things you see trucks pulling on the freeway, but there are others that are small that move by faster.

Some of them have sails while others don’t.

I think I know the boats with sails better. My older brother Urklyn likes to sail. During a summer that I spent with my dad’s family, Urklyn said that he was taking lessons to sail boats.

I wanted to do the same. I wanted to sail with him. I asked him once if I could take lessons to, but he told me that I couldn’t because I’m too small.

Nanaba and I walk on the beach. She’s still carrying my backpack and she’s taking photos of the beach on her phone.

I’ve seen other people doing something like that at school. There are some parents at the playground who like to take photos of their kids on their phones. It seems fun.

Nanaba doesn’t have kids, so instead, she takes photos of the beach.

“Do you like coming to the beach?” I ask her.

Nanaba stops taking photos with her phone and nods her head, “I do. It’s a lot nicer in the summer. What about you? You like it here?”

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “But the beach near my dad’s place is better.”

Nanaba nods. “I could imagine. Where is your dad’s place anyways?”

“I can’t tell you. Mom doesn’t like me talking about Dad with strangers.”

Nanaba raises an eyebrow. “Historia, I’m not a stranger. We know each other.”

“Yes, but you’re kind of strange,” I say. “You like to listen to strange music made by strange dead guys, and you like to hang out like strange people like me.”

I think saying that might have insulted her at first. She looks concerned for a few seconds, but then Nanaba blinks at me and crooks her head to the side.

She starts chuckling and I don’t know whether my words have actually hurt her or not.

“What’s so funny?” I ask her.

Nanaba shakes her head and waves her hand. “Nothing, nothing.”

I still don’t know what’s going on. “Uh… can I go close to the water?”

Nanaba nods her head. “You can. Just don’t get too wet, you don’t have a change of clothes.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

I run down to the shore. The waves move in and out and I get so close that the water touches my shoes.

I don’t want to get my shoes dirty. A teacher will get mad at me if I do. So I step back and keep a safe distance away from the water.

I like the sound that the waves make when they creep onto the shore. It’s why I like the beach. I could listen to the sound all day.

I walk along the shore. There’s a stick on the ground and I pick it up. It’s wet but it’s still in good shape.

I drag it across the flat sand near the water and draw a circle. Then I move a little bit and draw a triangle. Then a square. Then a heart. Then a diamond.

I’m running out of things to draw. I move on and try to find things other things to write instead.

I write my name on the sand.

**_H-I-S-T-O-R-I-A_ **

Historia is such a stupid name. Why didn’t my parents name me something normal like Christa or Mina? Something better than stupid Historia.

I start thinking of other names to write.

I write my mom’s name.

**_A-L-M-A_ **

Then I write my dad’s name.

**_R-O-D_ **

Those aren’t the only names I can write. The waves creep up and erase the names of my parents. I want to write more. I don’t care if they get erased.

**_F-R-I-E-D-A_ **

**_U-R-K-L-Y-N_ **

**_D-I-R-K_ **

**_F-L-O-R-I-A-N_ **

**_A-B-E-L_ **

I don’t talk about my siblings a lot. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to. My dad told me not to talk about them at school, so I have to tell people that I just live with my mom.

At least I see my siblings on the weekends. On Fridays, a black car comes to my apartment building and someone my dad pays to drive it takes me to his place outside of the city.

I spend the weekend in his home, but on Sundays, the same black car comes to take me back to Mom.

Then I go to school again like usual.

I think I should be allowed to write the names of my brothers and sisters. I’m not talking about them, I’m writing them. That should be allowed. No one will get mad at me for doing this.

I like my siblings a lot. Frieda helps me with my homework, Urklyn is very cool, Dirk thinks I’m weird, Abel is weirder than me, and Florian was born in the same year I was.

I wish I could spend more time with them. They go to fancy schools like I do, except theirs is closer to dad’s home and mine is in the city.

The waves creep up and erase the names of my family. By the time Abel’s name is gone, I turn my head and see Nanaba walking up to me. When she’s close enough, she kneels down.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing.”

“Writing what?”

“Names. Here, I’ll write yours.”

I find a flat patch of sand and write hers in it.

**_N-A-N-A-B-A_ **

I look up and see her admiring my writing.

“Is it good? Did I spell it right?”

“You did,” Nanaba tells me. “Nice work.”

“Your name is so cool,” I say to her. “It’s better than mine. Who names their kid Historia anyway?”

“I asked myself that very same question when I was your age,” Nanaba says. She adjusts the zipper on my coat and makes sure that the hat on my head stays in place. “I would ask myself why I had such a weird name. Every time I went to school, my classmates would bully me for having it.”

My eyes light up when she says that. “They did that to you too?!”

“They did it a lot,” Nanaba explains. “People used to call me _‘Banana’_ because they knew it’d make me mad.”

“My classmates do that to me too. They call me Geographia or Sciencia because my name sounds like the word _‘history.’_ It’s stupid.” I cross my arms and grumble. “ _They’re_ stupid.”

“A lot of people in this world are stupid, Historia,” Nanaba says. She stands up and starts walking along the shore, I follow her as she goes. “It’s best that you find that out as soon as possible.”

“My mom calls me stupid,” I say. I look at Nanaba, “Am _I_ stupid?”

Maybe that’s it, I can’t do anything because I’m stupid.

I’m just stupid Historia that’s too stupid and small to do anything.

I look to Nanaba to see what her response is.

She’s looking down on me with a shocked expression on her face. It’s like she can’t believe any of the words I’ve said to her, but it’s true.

My mom calls me stupid sometimes and it makes me cry, but usually I forget about it in a few minutes. It hurts, but the pain goes away soon. I just have to wait.

Nanaba stops walking and turns to me. She takes off her sunglasses and kneels down so I can look her in the eye and says, “You’re not stupid, Historia. Why would you think you are? You showed me your report card last month. You’re very smart.”

“I’m not that smart,” I tell her. “I can’t even play violin well.”

Nanaba puts her hands on my shoulders, “Just because you can’t do one thing, it doesn’t mean you can’t do anything else. You’re young, okay? The best thing about being young is that you haven’t tried a lot of things yet. That just means that you can go out and try them all.”

Her expression changes. I can see her starting to smile. It’s gentle, very subtle, and it makes me feel like things are going to be okay, even if it’s just for a few moments.

She may just be putting that smile on for me, but I don’t care. Whatever she’s doing, it’s working.

I can feel myself starting to smile back.

“Is that true?”

“It is. I promise you.”

* * *

 There’s a pier on the beach that a lot of the boats stop at. I asked Nanaba if we could go to it and she said yes.

It’s smells like dead fish on the pier. There are people standing near the edge with rods and cages in their hands. They’re casting the hooks down into the ocean.

As me and Nanaba walk on the dock, I reach for the bag of animal crackers in my coat pocket.

I’ve snuck them into class once. I haven’t got caught, but I might be soon. The girl who sits next to me finally got busted for hiding sandwiches and tater tots in her desk.

I rip open the back and take one out that’s the shape of a lion. I hold the open bag up to Nanaba.

“Want one?”

Nanaba looks down at me. “What are those?”

“Animal crackers,” I answer. “I had them packed for lunch, but I didn’t want them then.”

Nanaba nods her head. “Sure, I’ll take one.” She reaches into the bag and takes one out that’s the shape of a horse. “It’s been nearly two decades since I had one of these.”

Two decades. That’s a long time. I forget how old Nanaba is sometimes.

She’s twenty-seven years old, last I remember her telling me. I’m nine.

What I learned in school is that a year is just the amount of time it takes for the earth to travel around the sun in space.

So Nanaba has gone around the sun twenty-seven times and I’ve gone around the sun only nine times. It’s absolutely incredible.

I chew a cracker that’s shaped like a cat and swallow it quickly. “Hey, Nanaba. That nickname of yours?”

“Hm?” She swallows her bite and says, “Yeah, what about it?”

“How old were you when people stopped calling you it?” I ask.

Nanaba stops to think and finishes off her cracker. “I think… around the time I got to high school. People stop caring about nicknames like that when you get older.”

We get to the farthest end of the pier. There’s a large railing to prevent people from falling off. I trust that I won’t tumble down into the water, but it sucks that I can barely see over it. I put away my animal crackers and get up on my tippy toes to see the ocean.

It’s no use. All I can see is the wooden railing. This is worse than the car.

Nanaba taps my shoulder and I look up at her.

“Need a boost?”

“Yes, please.”

She leans down and wraps her arms around me. When she lifts me up, I get a better view of the world and remember that being small has its upsides.

Nanaba doesn’t have a lot of trouble carrying me. She’s done it before and she can do it with one arm.

“Better?” she asks.

I look to her and nod. “Yes.” I reach over to her face and grab her sunglasses. I put them on my face. “Much better.”

The sunglasses are too big for me, but I’ve wanted to try them on for a long time. She told me that a bunch of famous people wore these kind of glasses and that’s why she owns a pair of her own.

Nanaba doesn’t protest when I try them on for myself.

The view I see from Nanaba’s arms is nice. I like being carried. It’s nice to feel tall sometimes.

The ocean is blue like the sky and my eyes, but just darker. There’s a plane flying up in the air. It looks like a little white speck among all the blue.

I haven’t been carried like this since my grandpa died. It was two years ago. I can’t remember how, but my mom just said that he went to sleep one night and didn’t wake up.

I went to his funeral and I cried really hard, because I knew no one was going to be able to carry me like he did anymore. I felt small again. I hate feeling small.

My grandma’s still alive, but she lives in a nursing home now. Me and Mom visit her sometimes, but she’s getting older. She’s getting too weak to get out of bed on her own. She’s getting too weak to do anything.

I know grandma will be next.

After a few minutes of holding me, Nanaba says she needs to stop. Her shoulder is starting to hurt, so I don’t fight her when she puts me back onto the pier.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” I apologize.

Nanaba stretches her arms, “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had a lot worse before.”

I nod my head. I walk over to the side of the pier, where a ramp attaches it to a floating dock. It looks like a walkway where a lot of boats are waiting near.

I look to Nanaba and ask, “Can I go down there?”

She nods at me. “You can. I’ll be behind you, but be careful.”

“I will.”

I go to the ramp and grab the railing to walk down. It’s different than walking on the wooden dock.

The ramp is made out of metal and has a lot of holes in it. I can see the water below as I go down. It’s so deep that I can’t see the bottom.

I make it to the dock and Nanaba follows behind. The boats that stop by vary from sailboats that Urklyn would like to tiny rowboats.

There are people fishing on the dock too. Some people are walking by with crabs in cages.

The wind hasn’t stopped blowing since me and Nanaba got here. It pushes my hair over my face and the strands start to get in my eyes. At least it’s easier to see with Nanaba’s sunglasses on.

There’s one sailboat that starts to pull in towards the dock. It’s large and painted blue, a darker blue than the ocean.

There are two people on it. One is a tall man wearing sweater, and the other is… a dog?

What?

There’s a dog on that boat. It’s sitting near the front while the guy moves the boat closer to the dock.

When the boat is close enough, the dog jumps off and lands on the dock.

I think I’ve seen this breed before. It’s a labrador retriever. I know because a classmate of mine has a dog that he keeps around with him that’s just like this one, but that dog is brown and wears a vest.

We’re not allowed to pet my classmate’s dog unless we’re told that we can.

I hope I’m allowed to pet this dog. It’s different. It doesn’t wear a vest and it’s yellow instead of brown.

I walk over to the dog. I look over to the guy in the sailboat and say, “Excuse me, Mister?”

He’s holding a bunch of rope when he hears my voice. He looks up. “Hm?”

“Can I pet your dog?” I ask. “Please?”

The guy is doing something with the boat. He hops off the edge and lands on the dock. He then starts to tie his boat to the dock with the ropes in his hands.

“Sure, go ahead,” he tells me, nodding his head. “Don’t worry, she’s friendly.”

I smile at him. “Thank you.”

I walk over and pet his dog. The guy is right, it is very friendly. The dog wags its tail when I pet its head. It licks my face too.

“Is this a labrador?” I ask the guy and he nods his head.

“She is, yeah,” he says. When he’s finished tying his boat to the dock, he comes over to me and looks down. “You really know your stuff.”

“What your dog’s name?” I ask. I look up at the guy and see that he’s very very tall. Taller than Nanaba, taller than Urklyn.

“Her name’s Thea,” he says. He kneels down and I get a better look at his face. His hair is very shaggy and light brown and his beard looks short and scruffy. His eyes are also green, not blue like mine or Nanaba’s.

“That’s a nice name,” I tell him. I start to pet Thea’s head. “My name is Historia. What’s yours?”

The guy introduces himself. “I’m Mike.”

_“Hey! Historia!”_

I turn around and see Nanaba running across the dock, heading straight towards me. There’s a very worried look on her face.

“Historia!” Nanaba calls. She finally makes it to me, Mike, and Thea. “Historia, what are you doing? I turn around for one second and you just run off? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Nanaba, I won’t do it again,” I apologize. But I won’t stop petting Thea though. Thea did nothing wrong.

“Who’s dog is that?” Nanaba asks. She looks up to Mike, “Who are you?”

“Uh… Mike. My name is Mike... Mike Zacharius,” he says. He’s stumbling a bit, like he’s not that good with words.

Nanaba is kinda doing the same. She looks at Mike, takes a pause, and says, “I’m uh… Nanaba, hello.”

Mike motions down to his dog, “This is Thea. The uh… little one really wanted to pet her. Sorry if I made her run off. Didn’t mean to frighten you and your… husband?”

“She doesn’t have a husband,” I say. “Or a wife.”

Nanaba looks at me with a sharp glare. I think I might have said something wrong.

“So you’re not her uh…” Mike stops speaking for a second to look Nanaba up and down, “...mother?”

Nanaba corrects him sternly. “I’m her babysitter.”

Mike looks embarrassed. His face goes red and he starts running his hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry, I just thought… uh…” Mike starts to stutter.

“It’s okay,” Nanaba tells him. “I figured that we’d get that sooner or later. We look alike.”

I focus on petting Thea. Her fur is very short but very soft. I like Thea, I like all dogs. My mom says we can’t have a dog because our landlord won’t let us.

I’ll find a way to get a dog one day. I really want one.

As I play with Thea, I overhear Mike and Nanaba talking. They probably think that I’m too busy with the dog to focus on what they’re saying, but I can hear every word.

“So… taking the little one out for the day?”

“Only until six. Her mom and I think it’s good to get some fresh air. Are you a sailor?”

“Kinda. I work at that rental place near the beach. The um… one that gives out kayaks, canoes, dinghies, that sort of thing. I fix them mostly.”

“But is this one yours?”

“It is, yeah.”

“She’s a sloop, isn’t she?”

“She is. You know your stuff.”

I look up and see Mike walking back towards his boat. He tugs on one of the railings and keeps talking about it.

“She used to belong to a friend of mine. She was gonna get scraped for parts years ago, but I took it off his hands last summer. Been rebuilding it since then. Just took her for a spin today.”

That probably explains why his boat looks like a piece of junk.

“Where’d you sail to?” Nanaba walks up beside him.

“Just went to Whytecliff Park. You know, around Horseshoe Bay. Just needed to see what she’s like on the water.”

“You do good work,” Nanaba responds. She walks near him, staring at the boat beside him.

“Do you sail at all?” Mike asks.

Nanaba shakes her head. “No, it’s not my thing. I always thought it was a rich person hobby.”

“It’s not much of a hobby, more like a lifestyle,” Mike says. “Hard to get into, but once you’re there, it’s hard to get out. Ever been on a boat before?”

“Ferries, mostly. And I worked for a few months on a cruise ship.”

“A cruise ship?”

“I’m a pianist. I played in the lounge and restaurant.”

“Sounds like a good gig. Got to… travel around a bit?”

“I did, but I’m not much of a traveller though. What can I say? I think I love Vancouver too much.”

“Honestly, I don’t blame you. It’s a great place to be.”

I look over and see Mike. He’s looking out to the view of the ocean. He then takes a deep sniff of the salty air.

What a weirdo.

Nanaba walks up beside him. “I agree. It’s hard to get sick of this place.”

Nanaba looks out with him. She looks at the mountains and the sky and the boats on the water. Blue and green are colours that go together very well. I learned that in art class.

That’s probably why the view looks so beautiful.

Mike turns his head to me. He walks over and kneels down to me and Thea.

I’m still petting his dog. Thea is very pettable.

“How old is Thea, Mike?” I ask him.

“She’s six,” Mike explains. He pets Thea on the head.

I notice that Mike’s hands are huge compared to mine. “What was she doing on your boat?”

“Thea helps me out at sea,” Mike says. “On my boat, I’m the captain and Thea’s my first mate.”

“How can a dog be your first mate?” I wonder. “How can a dog help you at sea?”

“In a lot of ways,” Mike explains. He pats Thea on the back. “She’s good at surprising people.”

“Do you sail for fun or is it your job to?” I ask Mike.

“Eh… mix of both,” he informs me. “It’s kinda complicated.”

“I have an older brother named Urklyn. He sails boats like this for fun,” I explain.

“Oh, does he now?”

“He does.”

“Maybe you’ll sail with him one day.”

I frown and start to pout. “I can’t.” I cross my arms. “I can’t help Urklyn out. I’m too small to. He says I’ll fall out of the boat if I help him.”

Mike looks confused. He raises an eyebrow. “Hey, does he really say that?”

“He says a lot of things,” I answer. “And yes, Urklyn says that.”

Mike blinks a few times and I see just how green his eyes are. Like a subtle green, not a big, obvious kind of green. There’s a word for the look in his eyes. He seems concerned, just like Nanaba had been a few minutes ago.

“Let me tell you what,” Mike starts off. “I’ve been sailing for a long long time. I started when I seven years old and I was much smaller back then. I know for a fact that you can sail no matter how small you are.”

His words make me feel happier. I start to feel like everything’s going to be okay. “Really? Is that true?”

“It’s very true. Only the people who think they can’t do anything are the ones who will achieve nothing.”

I can feel myself smiling at Mike now. I can’t believe at first, I thought he was bad at words. He’s really good at them.

His words made me smile. That has to mean something.

Mike grins back at me. Behind him, I can see Nanaba watching us. She’s grinning too.

Mike pats my shoulder, “Tell your brother that you can sail with him no matter how small you are. Will you do that for me?”

I nod my head as Mike stands up straight. “I will. I promise, Mike.”

“Alright. Over here.” He balls his hand into a fist and holds it down for me.

I know I’m supposed to bump it with my own fist, but that’s weird, so I slap it like a high-five. High-fives are better.

I can hear Mike chuckling. Nanaba is chuckling too.

He turns back to her and gets a good look at her face.

“Good speech,” she tells him. “I think you just made her day.”

“Thought she needed it. Looked like she was gonna cry.”

“Well, thank you for that. The happier she is, the better.”

“Is it a good gig? Babysitting, I mean.”

“It has its upsides. A lot more than you’d think.”

Mike looks at his wrist to see his watch. He frowns at it. Something must be wrong.

“Do you have to be anywhere?” Nanaba asks. “What time is it?”

“It’s 4:51. I have to meet a friend at 5.”

“Shoot. We should be going as well. Traffic’s bad and we gotta drive.”

I grumble at Nanaba. “I don’t wanna go! I wanna stay with Mike and Thea!”

I can hear Mike chuckling again. “I think she likes me.”

“That she does. We shouldn’t stay any longer though. If I bring her back late, her mother won’t let her out ever again.”

“Understandable. Best to get going.”

I don’t think I can argue with Nanaba over that. Going home might be a good thing. I have homework to finish.

“Come on, Historia, we have to go,” Nanaba says.

I sigh. “Fine.”

She motions for me to come to her and I give Thea a hug. I like Thea, I like dogs. Dogs don’t deserve anything bad in this world.

I walk to Nanaba and turn my head back, expecting to say goodbye to Mike. But he’s walking too, walking in the same direction me and Nanaba are.

At least we’re walking the same way. We don’t have to say goodbye for now.

We get off the dock and head up the ramp. Me and Nanaba make it up easily, even though I have to hold onto the rail to do it.

It takes Mike a little time though. When me and Nanaba are on the pier, we look down at the dock and see Mike leaning down to Thea.

He holds his dog carefully and lifts her up into his arms to carry her up the ramp.

I start to laugh. It’s funny. Though, I think I know why Mike has to carry his dog. I think the holes in the metal ramp would hurt Thea’s paws if she walked on it herself.

Mike gets her to the top in no time. He puts his dog down and wipes some sweat off his brow.

“You’re very strong,” I comment.

He’s grinning again, “Yeah, that I am.”

All three of us and the dog walk across the pier. I walk ahead of Nanaba, which might worry her, but Thea walks by me. If something bad happens, maybe Thea will protect me.

I can hear Mike and Nanaba’s conversation behind me.

“So… do you live around here?” says Mike’s voice.

“Not really, no. I’m more around Dunbar. What about you?”

“Kits. I grew up around Deep Cove though.”

“Why’d you move out here though? Needed a taste of city life?”

“A little. The waves are better around here, and the ocean smell is stronger… I like the smell of the ocean.”

“It’s a good thing you work with boats then, huh?”

“It is. Probably not as glamorous as being a pianist though.”

“Trust me, my life’s far from glamorous. Only 1% of all pianists make it into the life of concerts and symphonies. I’m just the person people hire for weddings and lounges.”

“I’d like to hear you playing one day. What do you do? Bach? Beethoven? Tch...Tch… uh… that one Russian guy?”

“Tchaikovsky!” I correct. “Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky!” I know who Tchaikovsky is because my dad wants me to play Tchaikovsky on my violin one day. I think he worships the guy.

“Yeah, him,” Mike says.

I look back and Nanaba is smiling at him. I guess she’s charmed by him, somehow.

“I know some classic stuff. Debussy’s my favourite.”

“And Simon & Garfunkel!” I add.

“Them too,” Nanaba agrees.

“It’d still be nice to hear,” Mike carries on. “I like Simon & Garfunkel too. I like their sound.”

“I could give you my number. How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds great.”

We make it to the end of the pier. I turn around and expect Mike to take Thea and leave me and Nanaba.

But when I turn, he’s not doing any of that. He and Nanaba have stopped walking. They’re just standing there, typing things on their phones.

There’s something bright in Nanaba’s eyes when she looks at Mike.

“Feel free to text me anytime you want. I’m usually rehearsing or performing, but I take breaks.”

“I’ll do that. I promise. Feel free to stop by here any time too. You know, rent a boat… give your sea legs a try again. I could help you out if I really need it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

I pet Thea and watch as Nanaba and Mike keep on talking. The conversation fades out when I look at the beach and listen to the sound of the ocean waves.

Soon, I see Mike and Nanaba walking up to me.

“It was nice meeting you, Historia,” Mike says. He kneels down again. “I hope you get to sail soon.”

“I hope so too.” It’s getting easy to smile at Mike now. “Goodbye, Mike.”

“Goodbye.” He does that thing where he pats my shoulder again.

He stands up and whistles at Thea, telling her to follow him. Thea is loyal. When he starts walking off, she’s coming close behind him.

Nanaba smiles as she walks past Mike.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, you too.”

They exchange one more grin between each other. Then we all go our separate ways.

Mike’s going into the building that people rent boats from. Nanaba and I have to go to the parking lot.

Nanaba takes my hand and leads me there. I can’t help but notice this joyful look in her eyes as we walk back. She didn’t have that look on the way here.

“Do you like Mike?” I ask.

“Uh… kinda. He’s very nice, that’s for sure.”

“He’s very tall,” I add. “Taller than you.”

“Oh, of course. That he is.”

She definitely likes him. I don’t know how much she likes him, but it seems like a lot.

Nanaba and I make it back to her car. By then, I have handed her back her pair of sunglasses. She opens the door for me and I get in.

“Are you going to ask Mike out?” I say to Nanaba.

“Um… I’m not sure,” she responds. “I might need to think about it first. I’m pretty busy.”

“Busy doing what?”

“Busy practicing, composing, performing, and taking care of little neurotic nine-year-olds.”

I raise my eyebrow. I’m confused.

Nanaba closes the back door and gets into the front seat. When she sits down and does up her seatbelt, I ask, “Are you talking about me? Is neurotic a bad word?”

“You’ll find out eventually,” Nanaba says. But she takes a pause, pursing her lips and thinking about her words. I see a little flicker of worry in her eyes, it’s the smallest flicker of worry I’ve seen today.

“Just don’t tell your mom that I said that, okay?”

“Okay, I promise.”

I lied. I’m totally gonna tell my mom that she said that.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a drabble, but I found a lot of enjoyment in writing a nine-year-old Historia Reiss. Her perspective is limited, but it's fun to filter the world through a child's lens. 
> 
> I want to do something similar with other characters. I want to write a story from the perspective of a younger character. I was thinking maybe younger Mike or younger Mikasa. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the story
> 
> :)


End file.
